


Defective

by motoroilfreeway



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A/B/O dynamics on nagas, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Cloaca Sex, Eggs, Heat Cycles, Heat Sex, Labour, M/M, Naga!England, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Shower Sex, USUKUS, cloaca fingering, coping with loss, human!America, minor character/s death, nagas eat people trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motoroilfreeway/pseuds/motoroilfreeway
Summary: The world likes to remind Alfred and Arthur that they aren't meant to be but they don't care, as long as they can be together.[PLEASE READ THE TAGS]





	Defective

**Author's Note:**

> Miss me?
> 
> WARNINGS FOR SOME MINOR CHARACTER DEATH/S, EGGS, A/B/O DYNAMICS ON NAGAS, ANAL SEX, ANAL FINGERING, CLOACA SEX, CLOACA FINGERING, AND PROLLY SOME OTHER IMPLIED NAGAS EAT PEOPLE TROPE.

                First and foremost, Alfred doesn’t know anything that has to do with snakes.

They’re long and don’t have legs. They hiss and bite and sometimes poisonous.

They also shed their skin, which was gross, in Alfred’s point of view and knows that they also reproduce by laying eggs. They’re reptiles, not mammals.

Do they have heats, however?

Alfred doesn’t fucking know.

Doesn’t even _care_ to know to begin with because one, Arthur is not really a snake-snake. He’s just half of that, with the other half being human…or something.

Arthur’s a _naga_.

As Alfred walks home into his large, cold house, he yelps as he trips over Arthur’s thick tail, slithering and coiling. He cusses when he lets go of his shopping bag, his groceries that was supposed to last them for the week spilling into the ground, some in the crevices between the coils of Arthur’s tail. Thick and oh-so strong.

Alfred felt his body heat up for a moment, remembering just how _strong_ those limbs were before shaking his head quickly, trying to drive the thought away.

He had yet to get a glimpse of the naga’s head, but with the way his lower half moves in such an unsettling way, he knows something’s wrong.

The groceries forgotten momentarily, he stands up and calls out, eyes trained on the slithering limb on the floor as he does so. “Arthur?”

Alfred’s voice seemed to catch the naga’s attention well, as the tail suddenly stops its strange, writhing and wraps around Alfred’s legs. Alfred groans, almost trembles in fear when it suddenly wrapped painfully tighter around him, enough to break his bones _and maybe later, be swallowed whole._ _Most snakes break their prey’s bones before swallowing them whole, don’t they?_ A part of his mind supplies him but Alfred shrugs them off, telling the treacherous part of his brain that Arthur isn’t just some _snake_ , he’s _Arthur_.

He forces himself to relax, calling Arthur’s name as he does so, “Arthur! What’s wrong?”

Only to be met with silence and low hisses.

Then the tail tightens some more and Alfred winces as his body slams heavily into the ground and now he’s being dragged across the room, into the corner, right behind the couch and the TV. The closer he gets, he started to see Arthur’s upper half, lying almost unconscious atop a pile of blankets and pillows he most definitely have gotten from their room.

The sight made Alfred worry, all the fear wiped down from him in seconds.

Arthur only makes a nest when something unsettles him. When he feels threatened and needed to feel safe.

When Alfred was dragged close enough, the coil around him loosens that he’s able to break free without much of a difficulty. He immediately untangles himself and rushes to Arthur’s side. He quickly pulls out his feet from his shoes, leaving his socks on and carefully steps into Arthur’s nest, hands raised in worry, ready to touch and hold his troubled lover.

When he gets closer still, finally settling himself to lie right next to the other, mindful of the coils of thicker and larger tail that wrapped over the naga, he wraps his arms around the other, feels how warm the other is. Warmer than usual.

“Arthur? Sweetheart?” He tries again, fingers carding though the other’s hair gently, dragging stray, wet locks off his sweaty forehead. He rests a palm on Arthur’s forehead and swallows when it’s just as warm as the entirety of the naga’s body.

It feels like Arthur has a burning fever.

No matter how much Alfred pats at his cheeks or gently calls him out, Arthur doesn’t respond any much more than the deep breathes and furrowed brows. It’s starting to scare Alfred, who never knew a thing about snakes and never bothered to know anything much than the fact that they shed skin, lay eggs, and are reptiles.

“Arthur, please,” Alfred pleads, begs. “Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t know what to do.”

After being met with more silence, the naga barely shifting as he continued to breathe heavily through his mouth, Alfred tries again, a hand cupping the back of his lover’s head while the other moves to smooth down Arthur’s tussled hair, wet from sweat. “Arthur,” Alfred says, low as he leans down. Closer into Arthur’s face until he can feel his breathing from his own face.

Still nothing. Just breaths.

Alfred’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes closed, pressing his forehead against Arthur’s as he inhales sharply, mind running through possible scenarios and solutions.

Then he jumps when something grabs his crotch. Sharp nails buried into the fabric of his pants, slightly poking into the tender skin underneath.

“Al…fred,” Arthur breathes out, short and low into his ear. The claw gripping him tightens with underlying desperation.

When Arthur’s scalding hot tongue darts out to lick a strip of skin on his neck, Alfred realises with a jolt that no, not desperation, not yet.

Need.

Growing up---once or twice, maybe thrice or more, he can’t tell anymore, honestly---Arthur had mentioned something about classifications to him. The caste system: Alphas, omegas, and betas. It was nothing based on discrimination, but pure biology: Alphas breed and omegas are bred with the betas being useless as they were as sterile as they could go. That’s just how the nagas work.

Arthur is an omega, but young as he was when Alfred had first found him, he has yet to have his first heat.

Alfred had idly thought it was something similar to bitches, which will whine and calm down once they were properly mounted and knotted.

Seeing Arthur in such a weakened state, body hot with fever and warm, slimy slick trailing up into his slit, leaking was not what he was expecting.

Somehow, despite it all, _it made sense_.

Arthur is in heat.

“Al…” Arthur weakly breathes out once more, detangling Alfred from his string of thoughts, blood red as they bleed into his mind. He looks down, not noticing that he had his gaze focused on the wall, on its old, torn wallpaper that he had thought in passing to get it taken care of, sees Arthur  unconsciously press his head on Alfred’s chest, nose nuzzling, sniffing for his supposed alpha pheromones and sobs when he gets none.

It makes sense too, in that regard, since humans doesn’t have the same…classifications nagas had. There’s no such thing as a caste system set by biology, primarily for survival. The growing human population is proof of that.

But nonetheless, Arthur mouths his name, covets it, like man in the middle of famine, hungry and desperate for salvation.

Alpha or not, Arthur yearns for him.

For his seed.

At that moment, Alfred had already made up his mind.

Gently, he coos at Arthur and kisses his cheek to further put the omega at ease, his hand caressing Arthur’s hips, where the human becomes snake, with the promise of coupling hanging thick in the air.

“D-don’t worry, I’m here.” He assures him, feels his cheeks flushing in embarrassment at how his voice stammered in some sort of eagerness and nerves.

Arthur nods, weakly but with enthusiasm as he lies back down on his make-shift nest and offers himself up to Alfred: Arms wide open and back slightly arched off the nest. More slick flows out of his slit that makes the bottom part of his body wet and lewd.

To nagas, this is what they would call presentation. An omega presenting itself to its alpha, willing and open and ripe for the taking. To be mounted.

Strangely enough, Alfred’s entire body goes warm, his saliva somehow had a hard time going down his throat and he’s unable to swallow at the sight, his mouth watering.

Slowly, as if savouring the moment, as if one wrong move would ruin it all, Alfred approaches, hand cautiously resting right next to Arthur’s head, finding the soft tussle of pale hair that he gently twists with his fingers, locked and secured. Arthur seemed to preen at the motion and Alfred continues, eyes roaming the naga’s body with unexplainable bursts of hunger.

He doesn’t know where to start.

Then, in the corner of his eyes, he sees Arthur’s eyes close, head tilting back, exposing his neck, red and tender.

More slick flows out of his slit.

Arthur then groans---moans---in pleasure, soft and low from his throat, head tilting to the side this time to bury half of his face underneath the softness of the pillow and blankets underneath him when Alfred’s fingers find themselves lodged knuckle-deep into Arthur’s slit, urging more of that sweet, wet slick out. It makes squishing, wet, and lewd sounds, as Alfred’s fingers sink deeper and then out, until the only thing left inside were the tips of his fingers, before slowly sinking deep again, agonisingly slow that it makes Arthur groan louder, pained and pleasured at the same time, his upper human half trembling at every second of it.

When Alfred catches the sight of a large bulge growing around the slit, carefully, he untangles his fingers on Arthur’s hair to use that hand to gently coax out the naga’s tapered cock, red and swollen and _hot_ as it rests heavily on his hand.

For a moment, he had missed the feeling of that thick, lovely appendage inside him, filling him up to the brim and making him cry out in pleasure, tears prickling his eyes as claws squeeze around his throat, cutting off his windpipe.

 _But this isn’t about him_ , a part of Alfred’s mind supplies. _This is about Arthur_.

And he wants—needs---to be filled and bred and knotted.

The last of the three things Arthur as an omega had been yearning for was something Alfred knows he cannot do and the fact that he’s going to bring the omega distress and dissatisfaction left a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach, twisting and turning and poisoning, turning his desires into nothing---vile and dirty and rotten.

There was a sting on his arm and he notices numbly, that he was bleeding from four long cuts, Arthur’s claws buried deep into his soft flesh.

“Don’t stop,” Arthur whimpers and the claws dig deeper into his arm, blood flowing out at their expense.

“Deeper,” Arthur adds, groaning some more.

Deeper, Alfred went and Arthur cried for hours, in pain, pleasure and _bliss._

Alfred’s inability to knot and properly breed an omega like an alpha, however, left a horrible feeling in his gut, the tiny celebration of a successful mating all but forgotten.

He may have, no matter how much Arthur had assured him, satisfied the other during his heat despite the lack of knot and being filled to the brim but one thing still stood out to Alfred that day.

He’s a human. There’s no such things as alpha, beta, or omega for his species. They have males and females and they don’t require heats or knots for reproduction.

Nagas do, however.

It’s one of those times that Alfred gets reminded that he and Arthur aren’t supposed to be.

 

                Days blur into weeks and Alfred, to his surprise, arrives to an empty house, too dark and too quiet.

It reminded him of the first night of Arthur’s heat, minus the large, strong coils of Arthur’s tail that dragged Alfred’s body towards the naga, seeking for his mate’s comfort.

Brows furrowed and heart heavy with worry, he slowly puts the bag of his grocery---enough to last them a week, since today is Friday again and Fridays are grocery days, for restocking and resupplying anything they needed around the house---on the floor, right by the door as he slowly walks around the house, calling for his lover’s name.

“Arthur?”

He finds it suspicious to not see any lights on in the house or anything that indicates that someone is at home. Arthur would usually lounge on the living room, reading a book or knitting or be in the kitchen, trying to cook Alfred something nice to eat---even though the naga never had a human palate, the food always coming off over—or under—cooked.

Alfred goes upstairs, towards their rooms, hoping to see anything and wasn’t disappointed in the least when he comes upon the door leading to their bedroom. It was closed but light is streaming through the gaps of the door, indicating that the room is being vacated.

He approaches slowly, hand already grasping at the knob but before he turns, he leans forward and knocks, softly as he  had his ear pressed, ready to listen for any sounds.

“Arthur?” He asks again, followed by three little knocks, hard to be heard and soft to not to startle.

“Alfred?” Says a muffled voice. It doesn’t sound tired or distressed, as Alfred had feared, just questioning and curious.

“Yeah, just came home.” Alfred sighs out, all the tension in his body evaporating like steam. Knowing now that he has nothing to worry about, he opens the door wide, to let himself in. Thinks in the back of his mind that he’ll take care of the groceries downstairs by the door later, when it’s time for dinner.

Right now, he just wanted to lie in bed for a while and cuddle with Arthur. He at least deserved that for working hard all day and being a good mate, right?

Right.

What comes to his view, as he opened the door and laid his eyes on his lover, however, causes him to remain stock still in his spot by the door.

“Alfred, look!”

There Arthur was, on their bed, his tail wrapped around Arthur like a protective shield, his arms wrapped around his belly.

Large, round belly.

Arthur shuffles on the bed, making space for Alfred and he calls his mate out once more, a big smile on his face as he does so. “Come here, I want you to feel them.” He pats the empty space beside him, for Alfred to lie on with him on the bed.

Slowly, Alfred approaches, eyes focused on the large bulge protruding from the naga’s stomach. It’s so huge he’s afraid Arthur’s stomach might just explode. Nonetheless, he couldn’t look away, his breath all but taken away from him without him knowing.

“Them?” He asks airily, unaware he had even voiced the question himself.

“The children,” he hums, serene smile on his face as he strokes his belly, full of children---eggs, Alfred’s mind supplied. _Nagas are reptiles, remember_?

“Our children.” Alfred breathes out, breathless and full of air at the same time. He feels like he’s falling yet flying, his mind everywhere and nowhere at once. Then he collapses on the bed, right next to Arthur. Alfred’s sudden weight causes the springs on the bed to creak, making Arthur bounce, the naga laughing in amusement and fondness at Alfred’s reaction.

The nagas hand wraps around his wrist and puts Alfred’s hand to rest on his belly, right where Arthur can feel the slight movements inside. Alfred can feel Arthur smile as the naga nuzzles his neck, inhaling his  scent and bringing the other his much needed peace and feeling of being protected and held.

“They can tell it’s their father’s hand.” He laughs when Alfred felt something move, making the skin across Arthur’s stomach stretch and Arthur groan, but not to the point that it hurt.

If anything, the movement caused Arthur to smile more and laugh, nuzzling into Alfred and cuddling with him all the more, the image of pure bliss and happiness.

It makes Alfred smile, his hand still on Arthur’s stomach and not much sooner he’s laughing along with the naga too, his other hand now wrapped around the other as they cuddle on the bed together and wonder what these little things will look like, once they were born—hatched from their mother’s eggs.

Then Alfred jumps from the bed, now on the floor, “Oh shit!” He exclaims, causing his lover to look up at him with wide eyes, confused and surprised, hands on his stomach protectively as Alfred gazes towards the door.

“I forgot the groceries by the door,” He grins sheepishly, hand running through his hair. He laughs on his way out when Arthur smacks him on the back, smile mirroring Alfred’s.

Somehow, everything seems to be working alright.

 

                Or so he thought.

When Arthur was nearing his due date, his stomach now impossibly large, like he had swallowed a large dog whole, Alfred had made the wise decision to take the week off.

His bosses didn’t question his request much, didn’t bat an eye as they signed his request for the week off for approval. He had assured his co-workers that he just had to accompany a relative who was nearing her due date, doesn’t have a husband to help her around since she lives alone.

“That’s very nice of you to do that, Alfred.” They told him, astonished.

Alfred doesn’t say anything else; doesn’t do anything but smile and nod.

Now, three days into Alfred’s week off, they find themselves on their bedroom, on the floor. The blankets and pillows all dumped on the floor to make Arthur some kind of nest, similar to what he made for himself back on his first heat, Arthur in the middle of it, writhing, his hands clutching his stomach that won’t stop shuddering and stretching and contracting.

“They’re coming,” Arthur pants out, red-faced and warm from sweat. He groans when his stomach ripples, one hand clawing at Alfred’s shoulders, pulling his mate closer at which Alfred willingly obliges, too terrified and scared to do anything else.

_Snakes don’t have legs. They slither, not walk. They are reptiles, meaning they lay eggs._

But Arthur’s a naga, so do those things still apply to Arthur who isn’t quite a snake or quite a human?

 _He doesn’t fucking know_.

Alfred’s mess of a thought gets broken, like shattered glass when a pained scream drags out of Arthur’s throat. Both of his hands grab hold of his stomach, then he collapses further into the nest. Alfred hisses when one of Arthur’s hands---claws---grabs his arm and _squeezes_. He manages to remain quiet when he had most definitely felt Arthur’s claws sink in deep into his flesh, will most likely leave yet another scar.

“Shhh….” Alfred begins to say, almost panting next to Arthur, his mouth pressed close to the naga’s (human) ear, whispering low. He doesn’t know whether or not Arthur will lash out. _Animal instincts and all that stupid sci-fi monster movies shit_.

“It’s okay, just breathe. Do it with me, alright? In.” Alfred takes one slow inhale, deep and loud in Arthur’s ears for the naga to hear, to get his mind off the pain and the initial panic of _their children, in Arthur’s stomach, still inside their eggs but had to be released out now, because that’s just how it works with nagas like Arthur, apparently_ and it helps.

It really does.

The claws digging on his arm starts to let go, the sharp nails burrowing back into his fingers and becomes flat and human until Arthur’s fingers are doing nothing but desperately grapple for a firm hold on Alfred, fingers slipping from Alfred’s slick blood.

“Out.” Alfred exhales, loudly through his nose and Arthur greedily follows, eyes pinched closed and brows furrowed in pain but finally relaxed.

Alfred puts his hand atop Arthur’s on the naga’s stomach, grasping Arthur’s hand, giving him something to hold on to. “You need to stay relaxed if we want them to get out safely.” He kisses Arthur behind his (human, still) ears, deeply inhaling his scent through his soft hair as he does so, “you too, alright, hun?”

Arthur shakily nods and Alfred doubts that the other had heard what  he had said but he doesn’t care to repeat himself anyway as he felt the naga relax in his hold, his breaths more stable now than last time.

“Okay,” Alfred breathes out, positioning Arthur on his nest to make his position more comfortable for his labour, so his back and neck aren’t so strained. He may not feel it now because of adrenaline, but later, Alfred knows Arthur will be wholly grateful.

Alfred takes one deep breath himself, Arthur following suit unconsciously, his hand still clutching his enlarged stomach, the eggs ready to be laid, Alfred says in Arthur’s ear, “Push.”

At Alfred’s word, the naga started pushing, grunting and groaning at every push he does, his tail writhing at every movement.

Then a scream breaks from Arthur’s throat, strangled and pained.

Arthur suddenly collapses, his entire weight now atop Alfred’s, whose breath was taken away from him with the unexpected added weight on his chest. He peers at the naga, who is now panting above him, eyes lidded and face red, his breathing not as laboured but just as tired.

“It’s out,” Arthur pants out, voice cracking.

Alfred peers down, slowly, at the spot in the nest where Arthur’s fingers were weakly pointing to and sees what he had been expecting to see for weeks now: an egg. It’s white, but yellowish. Maybe even a shade of brown and thrice the size of Alfred’s own fist.

It’s still soft, almost jelly-like, just like what he had seen from animal videos of snakes laying eggs---he had some little research on snakes and eggs once, so this much he knows that the sight itself isn’t a cause for worry. In a few moments, the jelly-like thing started to harden, now resembling an egg, finally.

Arthur continued to just _breathe_ in his arms, pulling Alfred’s arms closer to himself as he nuzzles his head deep into his mate’s chest. Then his body jerks and he screams again.

His labour is far yet from over.

In the end, it took them nine gruelling hours, Arthur screaming all-throughout the duration save for a few minutes of rest after each successful push of a healthy-looking egg. Alfred couldn’t find it in himself to leave his mate’s side for one second to eat or do anything for himself, not when Arthur’s in pain and needed his support and comfort at a time like this.

Nine hours later finds the couple in the nest, sleeping their exhaustion off with Arthur’s eggs, all seven of them nestled between the soft pillows and blankets. Arthur made the room for the eggs themselves in their nest, so that they were resting comfortably on the uneven surface of his make-shift nest, right between where Alfred and Arthur laid to sleep, Arthur’s arms enclosed around the eggs, afraid that they’ll be gone once he wakes up.

Alfred’s eyes felt heavy, his lids threatening to close every time he fights the urge to sleep. His body had been screaming from the fatigue, his back throbbing from sitting in such an uncomfortable position a few hours prior when the naga demanded a more comfortable position to lay his eggs.

When he finally realises that fighting sleep is futile, he nuzzles into Arthur’s neck, inhaling his sweet, damp scent and gives the eggs a final glance, a hint of excitement and giddiness settling in his stomach.

In a week’s time, they’re going to have children.

All seven of them and Alfred will love and shower them with as much---if not more---affection as he does Arthur.

 

                They wait.

For days, they waited.

As the days slowly drag into a week, their waiting had only gotten more desperate. Arthur started staying cooped up in the room by himself all day, meals neglected for the sake of keeping his eggs in his sight, huddled close to his body for the hopes that the warmth will do good for the incubation.

It doesn’t.

Alfred looks up in the internet to know if this kind of thing is normal, asks some pet shop owners about it too but they were all useless. Nagas were just too different from regular snakes, in the end and Alfred goes home from a very rough day at work frustrated because of it. He finds himself sighing when his thoughts drift to Arthur, who would most likely be cooped up in their room again, huddled underneath thick blankets and whispering soft words to the eggs, eyes drooping and in the brink of dripping tears.

So it was no surprise to Alfred anymore when he arrives to an empty (not) home, the lights were all off including the one in their bedroom, where Alfred knows Arthur is in. The entire place is cold, meaning Arthur had forgotten to turn the heaters on again.

He sighs heavily, from the exhaustion outside and inside the home, dropping his work on the floor by the living room before dragging his feet upstairs, to their bedroom.

The first thing that he noticed was the silence.

“Arthur?” He swallows and slowly, his hand turning the knob to open the door and entering with caution. For what, he doesn’t know.

At the flick of the light switch, giving Alfred the view of the room, his face falls when his eyes land on the bed, a large body occupying, covered in blankets. Gingerly, he settles his hand where he supposed Arthur’s head is in and it flinches underneath the covers. “Arthur,” He tries again before pulling the blanket off entirely.

There Arthur was: eyes open wide, his sight directed at the ceiling. His eyes were dry but the rims were red, indicating that he had cried some time ago. Alfred finds himself falling to the bed, sitting beside his lover, worried.

He was about to open his mouth, his hand already on Arthur’s head, petting his soft hair to coax him into telling Alfred what’s just wrong when Arthur suddenly speaks, his throat tight and his breathing in small huffs.

“I can’t hear them anymore,” he says as he clenches his eyes tight, his clawed hands revealing the eggs underneath them, cooped up beside Arthur’s body. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and once he opens them again, it was like the gate of a dam was opened, as they flow down freely down to his cheeks and into the bed.

“Their heartbeats,” Arthur continues, finally turning his head towards Alfred’s direction and the sight of Arthur slowly blinking, eyes unfocused and just so, so lost as the tears flow unknowingly from his eyes shattered Alfred’s heart.

“They’re _gone_.” The naga sobs out, one of his clawed hands dart to his mouth to cover his grief. Alfred couldn’t bring himself to do anything, numb with the revelation, with Arthur’s grief, and with his own incompetence.

“They’re gone,” Arthur continues, rambling. He pulls at the eggs closer to himself, a futile attempt at denial, and Alfred couldn’t do anything to stop the pitiful sight.

“I’m so sorry,” he turns his head towards Alfred, his face showing just how sincere he is. “It’s all my fault.” _Your children is dead, I won’t be able to give you a family, I’m so sorry._

Deep inside Alfred, he knows Arthur wasn’t the one to blame in this.

It never was Arthur’s fault.

It’s Alfred.

Alfred and his stupid disregard at nature.

He’s a human for fuck’s sake. It was stupid of him to assume that everything will be alright as long as he and Arthur love each other.

Love has nothing against nature.

Love doesn’t move mountains; nature does. It’s all just some stupid crap Hollywood sold to make money.

It was because of that now, that Arthur is here, with Alfred, suffering the consequences.

Alfred supposes this was nature telling them, “I told you so.”

He and Arthur weren’t meant to be.

Not now and not ever.

Alfred clenches his jaws shut, biting his tongue hard in the process, pulling Arthur close to him. The sensation of Arthur’s body on his, the scent of his hair when Alfred’s nose came in contact and the tears that dripped on Alfred’s chest made him cry, just as wet and miserable as Arthur’s.

“Don’t---! Don’t say that!” He manages to choke out, his arms wrapped around his lover tight, unwilling to let go, with the eggs nestled between them: lifeless, silent, and very dead.

His mouth tasted disgusting.

 

                It had been some days since that night and they have surprisingly adjusted well, their routines back to what it used to before Arthur’s last heat.

With the only exception that the eggs were yet to be disposed of.

It was like an unspoken rule between them: one does not just throw away the eggs like they were nothing.

Alfred couldn’t bear with himself to see them go and Arthur cannot just part with them but at the same time, the sight itself reminds them of the pain, and so they have settled to keeping it underneath the bed, placed in a well-cushioned basket, like they were untouchable treasures.

In a way, they truly are.

Then, more days pass. The eggs started to stink up for real but Arthur and Alfred are good at denying what’s already there and they resorted to air fresheners like sprays and scented candles. Candles are romantic, anyway.

“When do you think my next heat will come?”

Arthur asks Alfred one morning, while the two are eating their breakfast. Arthur mentions his heat like he was just talking about the weather and the nonchalance of it all made Alfred choke on his egg, sputtering.

Arthur only watches him in silence.

“W, what brought this on?” Alfred manages to ask after a few moment of sputtering some more, the back of his arm wiping at the fluids that dripped off his mouth.

Arthur looks away, his head turning down towards the table and his eyes stay focused on the plate in front of him, like it was the most interesting thing right now before lamely raising his shoulders into a weak shrug.

“Just curious.” He says, contrary to the strange glow Alfred can see in his eyes, his round pupils---human-like---now turned into slits, like how it would appear on snakes. Alfred had long gathered that it’s just a naga thing---their features (the humanoid one, surprisingly) tend to constantly shift between human and…snake. Sometimes it’s due to their mood but usually it’s pretty instinctual. Arthur had told him a couple of times in the past that his hands shifting into claws out of nowhere or the way his flat teeth suddenly becomes razor sharp, his canines charged with poisonous venom when they kiss is nothing Alfred had to worry about. They all come down in biology and his body’s natural impulse to copy their own prey for higher chance of a catch.

He remembers feeling the ends of his hairs all stand those words, if it wasn’t for the naga’s coy smile as his long tongue slipping into his mouth, rubbing with his and pulling moans out of Alfred’s throat that reminded him that there’s nothing to worry about.

“Well, I’m,” Alfred furrows his brows, unsure of his own words. “Not really sure.”

He glances down at his unfinished meal, then back up to Arthur after thinking some few things. “When’s your last heat again?”

“Three months ago.” Arthur replies, quick as ever, as if he had been expecting this kind of conversation for a very long time, the pupils of his eyes were shifting between round and slit and his head is tilting in interest.

Alfred is finding this conversation very uncomfortable. Maybe something about the possibility that Arthur is trying to nick at old wounds, only that said wounds are still very fresh and that picking at them would not only hurt but make it bleed and start a whole new one.

So he does the only thing he knows to get out of any uncomfortable situations.

Run away.

“I, uh, better get in the shower,” He stands up too fast to be casual, and he knows Arthur noticed it too when the naga suddenly jumps from his seat, his very human knees bumping the underside of their dining table. Alfred almost felt bad when he sees the wince on the other’s face. That obviously hurt. Sucked for Arthur to chose this day of all days to go one hundred (ish) percent human so he can eat on the table with his husband.

If this was like any other day, Alfred would have been more than happy to soothe Arthur and help him deal with the pain of bumping his knees, but he’s trying to escape today, so he refrains and rather found this situation advantageous for himself. So instead, he awkwardly (guiltily) tips his head at Arthur walks away as fast as his legs could without looking like he’s hurrying. Which totally failed when he heard Arthur’s worried voice follow him on his way out, “Alfred?”

 

                Between Alfred and Arthur, truth be told, Arthur is the morning person.

He’s the one who gets up early in the morning and is responsible for kissing Alfred awake, like in one of the fairytale stories in one of the books Alfred got Arthur years ago for a present---it wasn’t even because it was a special day, nor was the book in question on sale in a shop, but because one day that happened to be that day, on Alfred’s way home, in the comfort of his car with the radio off and his mind all free to think about every thing thinkable he remembered how much he loved Arthur and why he mattered so much to be on his life and hence, he had to make Arthur happy and see his wonderful smile and of course, the only logical thing to do is get him a present. He’ll obviously like a book, better if it was an old one, so he stopped by an old bookshop on his way home and gladly picked a fairytale book because he knows how much Arthur liked reading mythical creatures in his stories, and the rest is history.

Arthur likes to kiss him awake because he wanted to be Alfred’s prince charming.

Which he already is, Alfred would remind him everyday Arthur kisses him awake and that is nothing but the truth.

Arthur being up early as well meant that the naga had taken the shower first before Alfred could and that’s really a problem because Arthur likes the heat and tended to use up all their hot water. Fortunately, Alfred doesn’t mind much because he does the cooking anyway so they’d made it a routine for Alfred to prepare breakfast and Arthur’s lunch and eat breakfast together while he waits for the water to heat up again. That way, it saves time.

Now, this poses quite the problem for Alfred as he had left the table too early and so had to endure a partially warm water to bathe in.

He shivers when the water hits his warmed body, but braves on anyway as he knows he did this upon himself. If this is the only way to avoiding Arthur’s conversation, whatever it may entail, then he doesn’t mind.

He deliberately ignores the cold as he squeezes ample amount of shampoo into his palm before rubbing them into his head, scrubbing his scalp with his fingers before reaching for the soap when he thinks his head had been scrubbed enough and proceeds to mechanically washing the rest of his body.

He’s already had soap all over his face by the time he hears bathroom door open but no sound of footsteps or familiar slithering is heard that is soon followed by the shower curtains being pushed open slowly and gently, as if the perpetrator is trying to be deliberately quiet and stealthy.

Alfred has to hand it to Arthur, he did it perfectly.

Alfred pays Arthur’s presence (or the lack of, really) any mind as he continues on his merry way of scrubbing his face clean with soap, his hands moving towards his head and pointing them to the showerhead to wash the shampoo clean. He realises after another moment of silence that Arthur has no plans of ever letting him know he’s just standing right behind Alfred and watching him bathe, so he finds it proper to just speak up and tell him otherwise.

“If you’re trying to play ‘hunter and prey’ with me, you’re kind of winning and I’m getting creeped out.” He says it outright in the open, doesn’t even bother to hide the tremor in his voice and the way he felt his hands freeze on his head.

A pair of hands wrap around his back almost immediately as if to comfort and he can feel Arthur’s chest pressing close to his back, the naga’s face pressed into the side of his neck, his nose pressed underneath Alfred’s jaw, nuzzling reassuredly.

“It’s not really a win if you noticed already, isn’t it?” Arthur whispers, then Alfred feels Arthur’s lips press into the spot on his jaw that he’s been nuzzling before. Alfred finds himself laughing, tilting his head up towards the showerhead to rid of the soap on his face better before retorting, “Our door’s kind of creaky.”

Arthur doesn’t reply as much as hum in agreement or whatever else, obviously no longer interested in the conversation as he presses closer into Alfred, his hands touching whatever patch of skin they could and his palms incredibly warm on Alfred’s chilled skin.

Alfred has rather felt Arthur’s intentions before the naga managed to put them into words.

“I want to mount you like this,” Arthur purrs into the side of his head before pressing his lips hard on them, followed by the ever-powerful press of his body on Alfred’s, his erection already warm and heavy as they press harder into the back of Alfred’s thighs.

“Like, like _this_?” Alfred asks, almost incredulous but very excited. It wasn’t everyday that Arthur prefers to fuck him with human legs.

Arthur hums again, accompanied with specific hissing sounds that came directly from his throat, obviously inhuman.

“ _Do you want to?_ ” Arthur turns Alfred’s head towards him, but not all the way so as not to strain Alfred’s neck too much and instead meets him halfway before asking, his eyes glowing, green, and very snake-like, so different from the pair he had seen earlier, undecided between snake and human.

This Arthur right here seemed to sure of what he wanted.

Alfred feels the same.

He nods only once and Arthur needn’t much pushing as the naga proceeds to kiss him hotly in the mouth, their lips pressing at first, once, then twice and thrice before slowly opening their mouths to feel at their tongues and then pushing in at one another’s.

Arthur groans when his hand comes in contact with Alfred’s eagerness.

Alfred moans when said eagerness is stroked burningly slow, heat starting to spread all over underneath his skin as Arthur kept with his pace.

The shower shut off before Alfred is gently coaxed to have both his hands pressed into the shower wall, their lips popping as they separate. There’s a smile on Arthur’s face as he studies Alfred’s face the way Alfred can feel he’s doing at Arthur’s right now.

“I love it when you make noises like that,” Arthur says lowly as he rubs thumb on Alfred’s head that sends a delightful spike of heat throughout Alfred’s body. He couldn’t trust his voice to shake so he chooses to shoot Arthur a grin, his cheeks burning hot.

They kiss again, their lips pressing close only once before separating.

Arthur appeared to be in deep thought as he studies Alfred’s face one more time. He breathes out, “Hold on for me.” Before pressing his head into the curve between Alfred’s neck and shoulder. There’s shuffling behind him, before he felt Arthur’s fingers press into him and he couldn’t help but hiss and grunt at the penetration. Arthur doesn’t have much patience in that kind of thing and no matter how Arthur tries to be apologetic and gentle, two fingers still hurt as hell.

Not to mention Alfred has been out of practice at playing catch as of late.

His hands on the walls tighten into fists and he felt his body stiffen as Arthur continued slowly, tears already prickling at his eyes. He tries to ebb the pain by pounding his head on the tiled wall once and it didn’t really work as much when it only made Arthur anxious behind him, his fingers retreating and his eyes peering worriedly over Alfred’s shoulders.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he tells Alfred, his hand letting go of Alfred’s cock in favour of patting his head, looking for a bump that wasn’t there.

“Can’t you slow your pace down a bit, even just this once?” Alfred asks, smiling wryly back at Arthur’s frown.

It sounded like too much of a request when Arthur’s features visibly shifted from one hundred percent snake to human, starting from head to toe before shifting back to his current preferred state. The sight itself would have been terrifying if Alfred were any normal human.

Alfred grimaces, nonetheless, not due to Arthur’s sudden shift in appearance but more on the fact that he want this to happen so badly but couldn’t handle Arthur’s conditions. The bathroom? It’s fine, he take it standing or whatever, but Arthur’s insistence on giving it almost raw? No.

So Alfred sniffs, inhaling before psyching himself to _just take it like a fucking man_ , and gives Arthur the most reassuring smile he could. “N, nevermind.”

He didn’t notice how his unshed tears trickle down his cheeks when he closed his eyes for his reassuring grin.

Arthur was silent for a moment, then his frown grows severe. “No.”

It takes Alfred aback and he sputters a protest, “What do you mean _no_?” He doesn’t think a rubbing would do him good at this point anymore when Arthur just _offered_ earlier. He already psyched himself to take it like a man too!

Alfred is already prepared to pull Arthur back to him at any cost when the naga pulled away only to take Alfred by surprise when Arthur only pulled away to kneel behind him, his hands already on either sides of his arse, his cheeks pulled apart.

He takes in a sharp intake of breath when he feels Arthur’s tongue press inside. Then he finds himself pressing his head hard on the tiled floor again but for a whole different reason from the last, one of his hands finding their way into his mouth to be bitten when Arthur proceeds to press his thick, human tongue into him hard and fast, like the way Arthur would have done if he had his way earlier with Alfred.

“Oh, God,” He breathes out. “Don’t stop!”

Arthur was more than happy to oblige, pushing his tongue in and out the way Alfred demanded it, keeping Alfred wet and open until he was ready enough to willingly take Arthur raw and it wasn’t long before Arthur’s properly mounted on Alfred, happily pushing himself into Alfred’s hole. There’s nothing human with the way Arthur mechanically thrusting in and out of Alfred, or both of his hands on the wall for leverage to pound himself harder.

It was so raw, so bare, and Alfred couldn’t find it in himself to complain, pushing his legs further apart to encourage Arthur’s vicious actions, one of his hands pushing the back of Arthur’s head to bury themselves deeper by the junction between his neck and shoulders.

Then his breath hitches, as Arthur suddenly wraps his arms tightly around Alfred, his thrusts growing deeper and erratic. Alfred gasps when he finally comes, his mouth wide open only to be covered with Arthur’s own as he feels the hitch in Arthur’s throat through their mouths and the sudden jerk of Arthur’s hips on his, coming right after Alfred did.

It was so short, Alfred knows. Nagas fuck to breed and humans as well but most of the time, they fuck to feel complete and loved so Arthur fucking him has never been anything but short and to the point but he can swear that this one didn’t feel the same as any other time Arthur prefers to fuck him.

This one felt different.

He’s still catching his breath, finds himself almost laughing as he watches his own legs tremble and feel Arthur grimace and the rest of him shiver as he clenches on Arthur’s softening cock still inside him and he couldn’t understand why.

When his legs couldn’t handle the weigh anymore, he lets them collapse under him, his laughter more evident as Arthur bothers to catch him in surprise, guiding him down gently on the floor and making him rest his back on the cold tiled floor behind him. Arthur just kneels in front of him, naked with human legs, his cock already tucked back into his slit.

Arthur obviously doesn’t understand why and what Alfred found so funny, at which Alfred is glad the other never asked about it as he doesn’t have an answer himself, his chest constricting painfully around his heart and lungs, making it hard to think.

Not a moment later, Alfred sees Arthur cracking a smile at him, his hair drenched in sweat rather than water and his chest moving too fast to catch his breath. Alfred’s laughter is about to die down, his smile directed at Arthur as the other presses both of his hands on either of Alfred’s cheeks, thumbs stroking at the skin below his eyes and he realises that the shower has been off for a  long time and so whatever Arthur had been wiping at isn’t water.

“I love you,” Arthur mutters as he presses his forehead to Alfred’s, one of his hands releasing Alfred’s face in favour of grasping one of his hands and pressing a kiss on his knuckle.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written a month right before I started writing sweet cheeks, which I think only took me a week or something to write down. I fancied nagas like since I realised it existed in the fanfic tropes and this is the first that managed to grow in my head to be written down. Unfortunately, I lost my inspiration* half-way but still had to throw my writing juice somewhere, hence, sweet cheeks. Then months passed and somehow, I found myself having too many free time in the form of daily 2-hr commute and got to think. Like a lot.
> 
> *A.K.A. the aforementioned epiphany I had on A/B/O as said in Sweet Cheeks


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